I’ve cried for angels to guide my soul when I felt so lost,

For the saints of my namesake to warm me from the frost,

Sometimes I’m so unsure if I’m to be delivered home to you,

Have I been forever cast aside by Heaven’s gatekeepers too?

I weep for sins of these warring hands that are my own,

Saints of warriors lost I implore your saving hand be shown,

The emptiness of night leaves me without embrace real or thought,

Do I walk into battle with weapons drawn or should it not be fought?

One thought after the other reach my lips to form a prayer,

Sweet Lord of Mercy I plead that I will survive this combat scare,

Each moment of extreme fear brings a vision of her smile to my eyes,

It’s an eternity since I fired my weapon in the horrid hope my enemy dies,

I’ve prayed prayers with the saddest intentions of man’s heart,

To pray that death finds another seems a worse sin in whole or part,

I’m haunted now and forever will be since prayers allowed my return,

Each enemy dead wasn’t my mine yet it’s our way for ribbons we earn,

No doubt love brought me home as I too prayed for her,

Am I watched over still or have my sins of war left little to offer,

Perhaps the bad health is a manifestation of my past I must endure,

A hundred years will not be enough to cleanse this man and leave pure,

I cry too for my angel as she carries a burden of whom she married,

Why is she punished too I’ve cried, I realize the burdens she’s carried,

I’ve walked with an angel for so long perhaps triumphant horns may blow,

If salvation should come I have no doubt it will result from the angel I know,

I cry to the angels aloud each night to guide me through,

Tears will silently flow as nightmares of war sins continue,

Weakness has overtaken my frame but I pray to again be strong,

I must be where my angel of night is at rest, for with her, I do belong.

The end, by Pat. First four verses written in 1969.